


You Should Wait

by SmokeMonsterSyd



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: F/F, i love one (1) trope, just kidding there are a few in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 08:25:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14233251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmokeMonsterSyd/pseuds/SmokeMonsterSyd
Summary: I got a prompt a while ago that was "You Should Wait", and it took me forever to come up with something, but here it is. Just a little ficlet of some Rizzles fluff. Post season 7, I would say.





	You Should Wait

You should wait.

 

You should wait until she has completely put on her pajamas before you say anything, but the image before you is just too much to handle. This is the third time she’s slept over since the change in your relationship and it doesn’t seem like it will be the last, but she still forgot to bring her own pajamas. You wonder if maybe she does it on purpose, refusing to bring her own clothes so she can be soundly wrapped up in your scent when you are no longer wrapped around her. It’s a thought you try not to entertain because wow, you sound arrogant and cocky and no one likes that. You want to tell her she’s beautiful, that you aren’t going anywhere, that she’s the best thing that’s happened to you, and you know you should wait until she has all her clothes on or else neither of you are getting any sleep tonight. But you can’t.

 

Her back is turned to you, her soft skin on full display as she steps out of her dress and unhooks her bra. The pink indentations from the garment look kind of harsh against her pale skin, and you wonder what she would do if you ran your lips over the lines to try to make them go away. You love her curves, her hips, the way her round ass sticks out just a bit in her cheeky underwear, her deceptively strong arms. She lifts them above her head and slips on the t-shirt you gave her to wear, a shirt your brother left at some point that is definitely too big for you, and too big for her. She is breathtakingly stunning, and you want her, and you should probably wait until tomorrow night, when you don’t have work in the morning to hinder your performance, but you don’t want to. She leans over to grab the shorts you gave her, but you want her the way that she is, giant t-shirt and only underwear.

 

“Maura,” you call out to her.

 

She turns to you, and she looks even more beautiful from the front, her face adorably inquisitive, her hair slightly disheveled, her eyes shining.

 

“What?” she asks.

 

You can’t help but smile at her.

 

“Come here,” you say, softly.

 

Her eyebrows knit together and it makes you want to kiss the creases between her eyes.

 

“Jane, I’m changing.”

 

“Yeah, I know, but come here first.”

 

She pads lightly over to the bed, and you suddenly notice that her walk is much different than yours. She moves delicately across hardwood flooring, as if she’s afraid of making too much noise or being disruptive, or like she has glass feet. She walks toes first and her heels almost avoid the floor completely. It’s endearing but also a little sad, as if she became a quiet person socially and physically because someone told her that she was too loud. That she needed to be seen, not heard.

 

She stands beside you as you lay in bed, and you look up into her curious eyes. You both may be barely pushing forty, but she is and always has been the most beautiful woman you have ever seen, and she engenders feelings inside you that make you feel like you’re sixteen again.

 

You slide your hand onto her hip as you sit on the edge of the bed, pulling her between your legs and caressing her hips. Her shirt rides up a bit and you resist the urge to stick your hands under it and touch her skin.

 

“Was this all you wanted?” she asks.

 

You press your face against the fabric covering her stomach and take a deep breath in. She always smells so good, like laundry detergent, coffee, and vanilla, and it calms you inexplicably.

You nod your head against her, pressing your forehead into her body and sighing when you feel her fingers thread through your hair.

 

“I have to finish getting ready…” she murmurs.

 

“Mmm, no.”

 

“Jane…”

 

“Come here.”

 

“I’m already here.”

 

You pull on her hips gently and make a small whine that normally she would not appreciate, but she moves and straddles your thighs anyway. She’s surrounding you, her warmth pressing into your skin, her shirt riding up even more than before. You can’t resist anymore, so you slide your hands up under her shirt and trace small circles on her bare back with your fingers. You feel, more than hear, her sigh as her chest presses against yours and she wraps her arms loosely around your neck. She pulls back a little and looks at you, her lips pouting slightly, looking at you with adoration in her sparkling hazel eyes.

 

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmur.

 

She smiles at you and it’s like sunshine after a harsh winter, and you realize you want nothing more than to make her happy for the rest of your life. You feel her thumb trace your bottom lip as she bites down on her own.

 

“You’re gorgeous,” she breathes.

 

You slowly slide your hands up her bare sides, just using your fingers to feel her heated skin, and she shivers a bit against you.

 

“Your hands are cold,” she whispers, and then giggles.

 

Her laugh is the most beautiful sound in the world, so you smirk and press your fingers a bit harder into her sides.

 

“Oh yeah?” you say, and start tickling her.

 

She lets out a loud laugh and twists her body a bit to try and avoid your fingers.

 

“Jane! No!” she gasps between laughs.

 

Her laughter is contagious, and you join in too, and even after you stop tickling her you both continue to laugh in each others arms. She threads her fingers in your hair and wraps her arms around you, laughing lightly into your ear as you wrap your own arms around her waist.

 

“I have to finish getting ready,” she says, eventually.

 

You tighten your arms around her and grunt, “No.”

 

She presses her lips to your temple, and you feel yourself start to blush. Despite the position you both are in, you haven’t really kissed her a lot, so you’re not used to the feeling you get when her lips are against your body.

 

“We will continue this in a little bit.”

 

You shake your head, but you loosen your grip on her body, sliding your hands down her sides to land on the soft skin of her thighs. You look up into her soft face and she smiles at you with what can only be described as love. Your eyes widen as you take in every feature of her face, from the shape of her nose to the small indentation above her lip. You hope she sees the love you have for her on your face as well. She leans in and presses her soft lips against the tip of your nose, and then to the tense spot between your eyebrows, before lightly pressing her lips against yours. She feels like home.

 

You think you should wait for her to be done with her nightly routine, when the lights are out and she is straddling you again in the heat of passion. Somehow, this moment, with her happily sitting half naked in your lap, is a better, more appropriate moment.

 

“I love you,” you whisper.

 

She’s so close and you know she can hear it, and feel the beat of your heart against her chest. You hope she knows it’s her's forever, and you hope she feels the same about her own and about you. Somehow her smile becomes even brighter than it was before.

 

“I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> I have this really awesome rizzles fic idea about Jane and Maura meeting in jail, and I was wondering if that is something that you all would like to read. Please let me know by commenting or sending me a message on tumblr if the answer is yes!  
> Also, If you would like to send me prompts, message me on tumblr at lostlastsforever756


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